


A Kissing Curse

by GanseysBlue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Stanford Era, Wincest Love Week, curse, kissing curse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6023236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GanseysBlue/pseuds/GanseysBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has to kiss the person he loves the most in the world or he will die - but who is it and can he get there in time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kissing Curse

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Wincest Love Week, Day 4 for [deanfinite](deanfinite.tumblr.com) and was orignially posted [here](http://deanfinite.tumblr.com/post/139132696918/wincest-love-week-day-4)

_15:03, Saturday afternoon in a sunny little town near Twin Falls_

“And if you don’t kiss the person you love the most in the world within the next thirteen hours, you shall die.” The horrible laughter of the witch as she disappeared was forever imprinted in Dean’s head. He’d hunted down a small coven of wanna-be witches who had been causing trouble in a small town somewhere in Idaho. He had expected it to be a small quick talk with them, maybe a few more serious talks, and that would be it. He ran into a bit more trouble when he found out that the mediocre spell works these women had been using came from an actual witch, using these women to carry out her wishes. It took him over a week to finally get hold of her, and he was prepared to kill her when everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. He was so sure she had cast a spell to make him the clumsiest person on the planet, he would have bet his baby on it. In the end, she cast something that sounded more than a curse than anything else. And as much as Dean wanted to hope that it was only a fake curse, he wasn’t sure he wanted to test it. He had thirteen hours to fix this, to find a way to reverse the spell, or to figure out who he loved the most in the world.

Love. A word Dean hadn’t thought about in a long time. He had been in love a few times, when he was younger and love was just a game to him, a game that involved a lot of making out and a lot of naked body parts touching. But he wasn’t IN LOVE at the moment. There was no girl he could think of that he could possibly love the most in the world. He sat in the Impala for a while, just thinking about what to do, where to go from here. He could try and hunt her down, and hope that her spell could be destroyed with her. But that would require Dean to actually find her within the next thirteen hours and it had already taken him days after having found her little helpers to find her the first time round. He needed a plan, a real plan.

Think, Dean. THINK. Who do you love the most in this world?

It hit him immediately, and he hated himself for not thinking of it before. How could it have escaped his mind that the one person he will forever and always love the most in this world was currently two states over, probably listening to some boring-ass lecturer or sitting in a study group with his friends? How could he not think of his brother the second the curse had been cast?

He knew the answer to all those questions, of course, and he simply hated himself even more for it. He had forbidden himself to ever think of his beautiful, smart, incredible, small brother again. He had told himself to forget about him, because he had left, he had never called, he had never really said goodbye. Sam had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with him, and he had lived in self-pity for too long after his brother had left. Four months after the day Sam had walked out the door, four months after the last time Dean had seen or heard from his brother, that’s how long it had taken Dean to stop drowning his sorrows with cheap alcohol. He sobered up, packed up his things, and got in the car. He decided to go solo, make a clean cut and forget that he ever had a brother, because the thought of Sam tore his heart into tiny pieces. Needless to say, it hadn’t worked at first. Everything reminded him of Sam, and everything that didn’t he wanted to show or share with Sam. Sam was everywhere, and it took him a long time to really stop thinking about his brother on a daily basis.

Sam was the person he loved the most. Sam was the person he would always love the most. That’s why it had hurt so much to see him go, that’s why it had been almost impossible to stop thinking about him. Despite everything, Sam was all Dean needed and wanted. He started to car. He estimated twelve hours to get to Palo Alto, without any rest stops. An almost impossible drive for anybody who wasn’t a Winchester, born to drive for endless hours, born to live on the road. It was 15:45, Saturday afternoon in a small town near Twin Falls.

_21:39, Saturday night somewhere on the I-80 – 6 hours and 24 minutes to go_

It had gotten dark a long while ago, and Dean could feel his eyelids getting heavy. Almost six hours after he had set off, the road seemed quiet and it was just him, his baby and the sound of the road underneath them. It was moments like these where he missed his brother the most, moments where he could feel extremely lonely if he allowed himself to. Without someone by his side, these long, dark drives could turn into long hours with nobody to occupy his thoughts, where he would have no distraction from playing his most painful memory over and over again in his head. He’d see Sam grabbing his bag and coat, storming to the door, looking back at Dean with pleading eyes, asking for forgiveness or for acceptance, Dean would never know which. It would all happen in slow motion, every aspect of it so real, Dean would always feel the tears he had felt and pushed down back then well up in his eyes. No matter how many times he would see it play in his head, the memory of watching his brother leave him would never stop hurting.

In those moments his head reminded him of what life could be like, what this drive could be like, if his brother was still with him. It told him how happy they would be, even if they didn’t talk, they’d be together and he could feel his brother’s presence and he would be happy. It told him that he would sing along to his favourite songs, silently and softly, and Sam would look over at him and pull a face, telling him that his taste in music was getting worse by the day, but he’d have a mocking smile on his face too, and he would smile at Dean. It told him that Sam would point out cool shapes in the clouds or tell him how fascinating the mood could be, Sam would keep him company in a way nobody else ever could. Sam would sit next to him silently when Dean needed some quiet, but his mind wouldn’t play cruel games with him, his mind would be distracted by the presence of the one person Dean had always wanted to be with, forever.

Time seemed to drag on when his mind was doing this, and Dean would grow angry and sad and frustrated and impatient. He would check the time every few minutes and turn up the music to try and drown out his own thoughts.

At 23:17, Dean finally needed a break. He knew he could allow himself to stop for long, but he had no choice. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Fifteen minutes was all he needed. He closed his eyes.

_00:23, Sunday somewhere on the I-80 – 3 hours and 40 minutes to go_

Dean woke up with a start. He had fallen asleep and his inner alarm clock had once again failed him. He had slept for over an hour, and he had no idea how he would possible make it to Palo Alto before his time was up, let alone how to find his brother without losing any time. Suddenly fully awake, he eased the Impala back on the road and sped up. Going over the speed limit wasn’t exactly his style, he liked to enjoy his drive, take his time, feel the road underneath him. But this time he had to hurry. This time, his mind didn’t play any games with him, it simply showed him the ways he could possibly track down his brother in the middle of the night, before his time was up. The only option that seemed at all plausible was to call him and explain the situation. In the middle of the night, it was unlikely Sam would even pick up, and Dean was certain Sam would be even more reluctant to pick up once he saw the number on his screen. All he could do was hope.

He rehearsed his words over and over in his head, tried different angles, heard himself say the same message in every imaginable way. He cursed as loud as he could as he got his crappy old phone out of his back pocket. He believed that Sam wouldn’t have changed his number, in case of an emergency. Sam may have left, but he was still a Winchester. Dean dialled the number, fast and familiar, and it stung how easily he remembered, how recently it had been since he had last dialled it, yet how long ago he had actually pressed the call button after. His hand was shaking as he lifted the phone to his ear, and his heart was beating faster than it ever had. He drove to the side and stopped the car, not trusting himself in this state. After three rings he wanted to give up, after five he thought Sam would never pick up. After seven he heard Sam’s voice on the voicemail. “Hi, it’s Sam. You can leave your name and number after the tone, I’ll try to ring you back asap.” Dean hung up. He put his head on the steering wheel and felt the tears run down his face before he even realised he was crying. This was hopeless. Even if Sam had picked up, there was still the issue of having to kiss him, having him forgive and forget and still love Dean, because without any of that, there was no way of saving himself.

He realised as he was crying that this was incredibly selfish. Sam had left, Sam didn’t want to see him or speak to him, and here he was, trying everything he could to see Sam just to save himself. What if Sam didn’t want to save Dean?

He lifted his head up. He thought about the things he wanted to do in probably the last few hours he had to live. A checklist appeared in his head of all the things he never got to do in his life, all the wasted opportunities, all the moments he never enjoyed as much as he should have done. And he realised that no matter what, he just wanted to see his brother one last time. So he dried his face on the sleeve of his jumper and sat up straight, got back on the road and swore to himself that he would make it to Palo Alto before 4 am.

_3:29, Sunday morning in Palo Alto – 34 minutes to go_

When Dean Winchester sets himself a goal he makes damn sure he gets it. A sigh of relief escaped his lips when he passed the first houses that belonged to the place where his brother had built himself a new life. He’d spent the last few hours on the road imagining every possible outcome of this, but he had enjoyed every second of the good ones. If this didn’t work out, at least in his mind he would have said all the things he wanted to say to his brother. It wasn’t the best solution, but it would have to do. He got his phone out again and dialled the familiar number a second time that night. At the third ring his heart felt like it was trying to explode, escape his chest and get away. At the fifth ring he heard a click in the line.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice sounded sleepy, grumpy, but mostly concerned. “Dean, you okay?”

“Sammy, I’ve missed you so much.” The words came out before he could stop them, before he even knew his brain had thought them.

“Are you drunk?” Sam’s voice had gone from concerned to angry. “Seriously, Dean, do you have any idea what time it is where I am? You had me worried sick for a moment.”

“Listen, I need to see you. I’m in Palo, do you think you could meet me somewhere. Sammy, it’s really urgent.” He realised how stupid it sounded, at half past three in the morning, to ask his brother to meet him somewhere.

“Where are you?”

“Just past the first few houses, east side of the town.”

“Give me half an hour, I’ll be there.”

“No, wait! Sammy, you still there?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Listen, I don’t have half an hour. Can you tell me where to go, I’ll come closer to you.”

Sam gave him rough directions and Dean tried to remember them as well as he could. Ten minutes later he was parked outside a house that his brother had described to him. He took a deep breath, braced himself for whatever was to happen. He walked up to the front door and knocked. It took Sam less than ten seconds to open the door, and Dean thought his heart had stopped beating when he saw his brother, tall and grown up, in boxers and a light sweater, hair sticking up in places from sleeping, but what had him stop short and stare was the smile on his brother’s face. It was mixed with a lot of different emotions, but in any of Dean’s visions of this moment, Sam had never smiled at first. And here he was, pulling his brother into a hug, holding him as close as he possibly could.

“I’ve missed you too, Dean”, he replied to Dean’s earlier statement. Dean just stood, breathing in the scent of his brother, a scent that was different from what he remembered, but just as good. Sam had changed in so many ways, but he was still his Sam, and he couldn’t help but cry into his brother’s shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam pulled away just a little, just enough to look at his brother’s face.

“Sammy.” Dean’s sobbing only allowed him to mutter that word, over and over again, and Sam stood and held him patiently.

Dean remembered that his time was ticking, and tried to get himself to stop crying.

“Sammy. I …. I don’t know where to start. I need to kiss you.” He blurred it out without any further explanation, and Sam stood there, staring at his brother for what felt like years.

“Dean. I – I’m a little confused.” He frowned at his brother, wondering if something was possessing Dean, if something was wrong with him.

Dean checked his watch. 3:57 – he only had six minutes left. His only options were to explain or to act, and something inside him liked the idea of surprising his brother, of explaining afterwards. He put his hand behind Sam’s head, and before he could react, Dean was kissing him. Sam stiffened, just for a second, but before Dean could pull away – after all, he was sure that the shortest kiss in the history of kisses would free him from the curse – Sam was kissing him back, pulling him closer, softening his lips and moving along with his brother. They kissed for a few minutes, eventually deepening the kiss, only to turn it into the softest touch of lips, and then making it a rough, needy and sloppy mess. When their kiss broke they were both panting, standing in the doorway and looking at each other.

“I – “ Sam started, but he couldn’t think straight.

“Sam. I’m sorry, I should have explained first.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s fine. I – I really liked it.” Sam’s blushed face and his shy eyes were enough to make Dean lean forward again, into his brother, pushing him away from the door and into the hallway of the house. He kicked the door closed with his foot and pulled his brother against him, letting him push him against the door.

“Fuck. I’ve missed you more than you know.”

They’re both breathing heavily when this kiss breaks, and Sam leans into Dean, hands by his brother’s side, bracing his weight against the wall.

“Do I want to know what brought this on?” He asked the question with so much uncertainty that Dean was almost afraid to answer.

“I ran into a witch. She cursed me so that I would die if I didn’t kiss the person I love the most in the world. I just barely made it in time. I’m not even sure if the curse was real but, I didn’t want to test it. And if I had died, I would have never forgiven myself for not seeing you one last time.”

“You love me the most in the world?” Sam’s face had instantly brightened up, his eyes were shining and his smile was mesmerising.

“Yeah of course I do, bitch.”

“I love you too, jerk.”

And with that, Sam leans his head back down, kissing Dean so tenderly and carefully, as though he was afraid to break him, afraid to wake up from a dream and find out it wasn’t real. He kissed him and Dean kissed him back, and suddenly the world seemed alright, everything was how it was meant to be.


End file.
